For Everything a Season
by LM
Summary: Summer, fall, spring summer . . . the babies can't decide which is best. Twilight helps them gain perspective.


For Everything a Season

  
For Everything a Season by Lady Moondancer

"Rain." Baby Cotton Candy stared balefully at the droplets trickling down the windows of Dream Castle. "Rain, rain, rain. I'm so _sick_ of rain!" 

"I know what you mean," agreed Baby Surprise. "Why couldn't it be summer already? Then it would be warm enough to swim, and we could go on picnics, and--"

"Forget about summer," said Baby Firefly. "Now fall . . . _fall_ is fun. Catching after the falling leaves an' riding on the wind--"

"I like winter," Baby Glory said shyly. "I'd like to be out making a snowpony right now."

"Or a snow fort," added her cousin, Baby Moondancer. "And we could have snow ball fights . . ."

"What's wrong with spring?" Baby Blossom objected. "I like spring! All the flowers are beginning to bloom, a--"

"It's a dumb kind of season," said Baby Cotton Candy, who was in a contrary mood. "All the nasty wet rain an' mud, an' none of the flowers are big enough to eat yet! Winter is even worse; you have to dig through the snow to find even an old DANDELION!"

"As if _we_ can ever find any flowers to eat when _you're_ around no matter what season it is!" said Baby Moondancer, tossing her mane. 

Baby Cotton Candy gaped for a moment before retorting, "Well! Who cares what YOU think? Anyone dumb enough to like winter--"

"Yeah, autumn's the best!" added Baby Firefly, trying to do a 'double-inside-out loop' and succeeding only in crashing into a pink marble wall.

"No, summer!" said Baby Surprise.

"Spring!"

"Winter!"

"Fall!"

"Summer, an' if you don't think so then you're just dumb!"

The baby ponies argued in ever-louder tones about their favorite seasons. By the time the clip-clop of approaching grown-up hooves echoed through the corridors, they were shouting too loudly to take notice.

"SUMMER!!!"

"WINTER IS THE BEST!!!"

"FALL--"

"Children, children! Hush!" 

The foals paused in mid-scream, glancing guiltily at the white-maned unicorn standing behind them.

"She started it, Twilight!" wailed Baby Blossom, pointing a hoof at Baby Cotton Candy.

"I did _not!"_

"I just said that fall was better than winter, and SHE said--"

"Anyone can see that winter is best--"

"Foals!" Twilight firmly stomped her hoof.

The babies silently gazed at the marble floor, chastened. "We're sorry, Twilight," whispered Baby Glory, a shy little filly who had spent most of the fight gaping at the combatants, mesmerized. 

The pink unicorn sighed. "I know you've been cooped up all week, little ones, but that's no reason to act like a nest of dragonlings trying to gobble each other up!"

Baby Cotton Candy opened her mouth to protest that it was only because her playmates were too stupid to see the merits of _her_ favorite season, then decided against it and closed her mouth.

"It just rains and rains, Twilight," Baby Moondancer sighed. "We want to play outside again!"

"Soon it will be summer, Baby Moondancer. You only have to wait."

"But we want to go outside NOW!" Baby Firefly said. "Baby Cotton Candy's right, spring's silly. I wish it went straight from winter to summer."

Twilight looked at Baby Firefly for a full minute. "How would you like to hear a story, baby ponies?" the unicorn said at last.

"Oh, yes!" said Baby Glory, brightening. Twilight always told wonderful stories.

"Yeah, a story!" cried Baby Moondancer and Baby Surprise.

"Storytime! Storytime!" chanted Baby Firefly.

Baby Blossom and Baby Cotton Candy nodded in agreement.

"Come with me, then," Twilight said, and she led them up crumbling stairs until they stood in a room high in the Northwest turret of the castle. Tapestries lined the walls, insulating the room from the chill of winter and the clamminess of early spring, and a pile of overstuffed cushions lay scattered by a large window dripping with rain. Just beginning to sink under the western horizon, the sun still managed to lighten the sky considerably and throw a pale square of sunlight into the chamber.

As they flopped onto various cushions, the baby ponies fidgeted, waiting eagerly for Twilight to begin. The pink unicorn spent a few minutes settling comfortably, flicking her snowy white tail neatly around her hooves. At last, she was ready. "Now, this happened a long time ago . . ." she began.

Now, this happened a long time ago, before there were ponies with thin, fragile insect wings or big shaggy feet or hard, gem-like eyes. In fact, there were only four ponies at that time, each one different from the others. 

One was a little green earth pony, the first pony ever. One was a sea pony, as blue as the ocean. One was a pegasus, pure white. And one was a unicorn, the same color as the reddened clouds of sunset. The four ponies were good friends and would often play and explore together. 

But one day the little green earth pony woke up one day and decided to go exploring all by herself. She had not quarreled with her friends, but all wise ponies know that solitude can also be a lovely companion as well. So she merrily trotted into the forest hills with no thought to where she was going. 

Morning stretched into midday and midday into evening, and still the green pony walked, occassionally interupted by harmless but interesting adventures. Her muzzle was stained dark purple from a patch full of blackberries early in the day and her green mane was tangled as a result of a run-in with some burrs. She had also found a mud puddle just begging to be rolled in, and had acquiesced with glee.

Her adventures were not over yet, for as she leapt gracefully over a moss-covered log, she discovered a tiny lake bordered with reeds and rushes. Jewel-toned dragonflies hung in the air, darting after mosquitos. 

"What a lovely place," the earth pony thought. "The sea pony would certainly like it. Perhaps there's an underground spring that connects it to the river." She put a hoof into the calm, clear water, then drew it out swiftly. "Cold!" she remarked happily. Again she dipped in her hoof, dramatically leaping back at the water's chill. The earth pony grinned; she was enjoying herself immensely. But she didn't want to stop exploring just yet, so she reluctantly left the lake behind her and continued on her journey.

As evening faded into night the trees began to thin out, replaced by meadowgrasses. The earth pony continued and at last even the grass disappeared as the soil became hard and rocky. As the moon slipped into view, the green pony observed a thin crust of rock that had hardened like a blanket of stone. She had never heard of a "volcano", but she was quick to observe that the rolling veil of rock must have originally come from the tall, jagged mountain peak looming ahead.

"But I'll wait until morning to explore the mountian," she yawned. "For tonight, I think I'll go back to that meadow to get some sleep." 

Early the next morning, the little pony rolled to her feet. "Onto the mountain," she laughed, racing through the fields until the swishing of the wildflowers against her legs turned into the clippity-clop of her hooves striking rock. After a time the smooth blanket of red, pocked rock came up against the base of the towering mountain. It rose suddenly, rearing against the sky. "A hard climb," the earth pony thought. "But I can make it . . . I think." 

So she began to struggle up the peak. She was correct in thinking it was a hard climb. Many times she was force to leap from one jagged rock to another or plow through snow as deep as her chest or creep along an ice-slicked ledge barely as wide as her hooves, and all the time she knew that one misstep would send her plummeting from the dizzying heights to the stony ground below. But she was brave (which was helpful) and stubborn (which was essential), and she managed to make it to the summit with only a few scrapes from slipping and sliding down a few feet with the harsh rocks tearing at her green belly. 

"It was worth it," she thought, looking around proudly. "I made it." 

The top of the mountain was in a little hollow, with shards of rock rearing up all around it like misshapen teeth. They were rather unnerving to the eye, but the mare was relieved to find that they protected the area from the relentless wind whistling around the mountain. Nestled in the base of the wall of rocks was a fair-sized cave. The little pony was surprised to find a spring in it which flowed so swiftly that only the edges of it were crusted with ice. But she soon turned away from it, interested by a faint glimmer from the very back of the cave . . . 

It was a pool of crystalline water set in an unnaturally perfect circle, held in by a neatly raised rim of stone. Strange lichens glowed with a soft light from the walls, but did not penetrate the liquid, though it seemed to be less than two spans deep. 

The pony walked around it once or twice, amazed and confused. Although she was quite thirsty, she had no desire to drink out of the pool. "I'll rest instead," she told herself, thinking of the long and treacherous journey ahead. 

But a restlessness overcame her and seemed to pull her towards the little circle of water. She resisted the urge at first, but after a while . . . "I wonder what the bottom is made of? I'll just go take a glance . . ."

She stared into the pool, at first only seeing her own reflection. But the pool drew her gaze deeper . . . deeper . . . "I must find the bottom," she told herself.

All at once, the earth pony found herself staring at a confusion of green and blue partially obscured by a swirl of fleeting white. She had often wondered what the pegasus saw as she soared above the clouds; now she knew.

"It's beautiful," the pony thought. "The mountains, the trees, the lake, the meadow! Oh, shades, that cloud is in my way! I wish it would move--" With unnatural swiftness, the cloud dissipated. The earth pony blinked in surprise.

"I wish it would come back," she said experimentally, and out of nothingness the fluffy whiteness formed under her eyes. 

"I wish there was a pile of huckleberries up here," she continued, looking around eagerly--but no huckleberries appeared. Even a magic pool has limits. The earth pony played at the pool for a bit, causing the wind to ripple through the meadows and the clouds to cover and uncover the sky, but at last she began to think of her home and her friends. 

"I'd better get going," she said to herself, glancing at the mouth of the cave. "Oh, shades, the climb down will be hard! I wish it were covered with feet and feet of snow the whole way down--then I could just _slide_ down the mountain!"

Before she had finished speaking, grey clouds had swirled across the sky, driven by a harsh, cold wind. As she stared in amazement, large snowflakes began tumbling from the sky. Within minutes, it began burying the jagged rocks beneath its gentle onslaught.

"Wow," the earthling whispered in awe. "I guess I _will_ be sliding home!"

Her journey home was most enjoyable; the cushions of snow made the trek down the mountain easy and she pranced and rolled in the snow in the meadow and skittered across the frozen lake, shrieking with laughter. The stars glittered frozenly above her by the time she reached her home. She kicked and formed the snow into a shelter and fell asleep, content.

To the little green pony's delight, the snow continued to drift higher and higher as the days went by. Some ponies were not so happy, however . . .

"I'm tired snow," grumbled the white pegasus. "My wings are so stiff I can barely move them."

"I've been using my magic to keep warm, but it's exhausting," the unicorn sighed. "And I'm tired of having to melt the ice for you to surface, sea pony. (No offense.)"

"If you're tired of thawing the floes, think of how tired _I_ am of being stuck under the surface of the water!" the sea pony exclaimed, waving her flippers for emphasis. "Why is it so cold?"

"Maybe the earth pony knows, but I haven't seen her all day," the pink unicorn said. "I think she's exploring again."

_"She_ seems to like this horrible weather well enough," the pegasus grimaced. "But I've had enough of it. Tomorrow I'm going to see if I can find out why it's turned so cold!"

So the next day the pegasus trotted off, and by strange coincidence she ended up going the exact same way the earth pony had. But she did not pause to skate on the ice or eat the sweet, cold snow in the fields. "The sooner I find out what the problem is, the soon I can get warm," she told herself, shaking the snow off her wings.

The volcano now appeared as a huge drift of snow spearing the sky. The pegasus eyed it doubtfully. "I don't know if this is going to work," she told herself. "But I have to try."

She limbered up her wings, twisting them this way and that, before leaping onto the wind. The snow half-blinded her and the howling wind buffeted her about as she tried to steady her stiff wings. More than once the gale nearly flung her onto the side of the mountain, but she stretched her feathers and pushed against the wind with all her might. Earth ponies were not the only stubborn ones.

Her effort was rewarded, for at last she reached the little hollow nestled at the peak of the mountain. With a sigh of relief, she landed and folded back her wings. Plunging through thick drifts of snow, she headed for shelter--the cave.

After taking a long drink from the wild-running stream, the pegasus noticed the tiny circular pool. Drawing closer, she stared into its depths . . . deeper . . . deeper . . . 

Unlike the earth pony, the white pegasus immediately recognized the blurr of white veined with silvery-blue for what it was--the snow-covered land and frozen rivers. Here and there faint highlights of green hinted that there were trees huddled under the whiteness. Snowflakes appeared to blow just beneath the surface of the pool, close enough to touch, before they tumbled down to the earth below.

"Snow!" the pegasus snorted. "I'm _tired_ of snow! Why can't it just stop?" As soon as she said it, the snowflakes in the pool quietly vanished. The pegasus blinked.

"Uh . . . I wish the snow would melt," she experimented. One or two slender streaks of green appeared below, expanding until only a few pockets of rapidly disappearing white remained in the deepest shadows of the hills.

"Magic!" crowed the pegasus. "I wish there was enough wind to carry me high, high into the sky whenever I wanted. Not so cold as now, though." She paused as a gust of wind rushed against the mouth of the cave, a strong breeze with only the slightest hint of a nip in it. She glanced into the pool to see if her command was having effect down there, as well. Sure enough, the tops of the trees rippled in the wind.

"Is it the high updrafted wind that carries you upward _above_ the trees, or one of those steady winds that blows straight through everything from the ground up? You have to be careful with those ones, don't want to get blown into the treetops," the white pony muttered, flexing her wings. "I can't see below the trees or I could tell . . . I wish those leaves weren't in the way." A minute later she gasped as the leaves began tumbling from the trees, leaving them bare.

"What a wonderful pool! But shades and shadows, with those green leaves blowing around it looks like the ground itself is swirling away. Can't have _that!"_ the pegasus grinned mischeviously. "I wish the leaves were . . ." She thought of her favorite sunsets. "I wish they were gold and red and orange." She nickered with joy as they changed.

_"Now_ everything's fixed up!" she said in a satisfied tone. "I'll ride the wind home!" She galloped out of the cave and soared high into the sky as the wind rose to support her. 

The pegasus had intended to tell her friends about the wonderful news, but somehow she never quite got around to it. There were zephyrs to ride, after all. There were leaves to chase. But as the leaves continued to tumble from the trees day after day, the other three ponies met.

"What's happened?" the sea pony wondered. "The leaves are falling so thickly on the river that I can hardly see the to surface." She shook some soggy leaves out of her hair for emphasis.

"Even with the snow gone, I can't find any flowers. They seem to be dying," the unicorn said sadly.

"The snow was _pretty_ . . . not like _this_ weather. The trees are bare and empty and I'm tired of hearing that incessant 'crunch crunch crunch' whenever I walk," complained the green earthling. 

"Well, tomorrow I'm going to swim upstream and see if any of my underwater friends can help us find the answer," the sea pony said firmly, tossing her blue mane.

So the next day the sea pony began swimming upstream, wriggling along like an eel as sea ponies do when they're in a hurry. Leaping over small waterfalls and carefully avoiding strong currents, she questioned all the sea creatures she met. But none knew the reason for the strange shifts in the weather. 

At last she began swimming through an underwater cavern which ended at a small lake. Oddly, this was the very lake that the earth pony had stopped by on her journey, which she had thought that the sea pony would enjoy.

The sea pony did admire the tiny lake, but the wet carpet of leaves carpeting it and sticking to her fins irritated her. "They're worse than barnacles," she muttered darkly. "Oh well, I'd better look around . . ."

Diving underwater, she questioning fish and turtles and the occassional crawdad, though the crawdads did little but stare at her with their long-stalked eyes and wave their claws. She didn't find any answers . . . but she _did_ find another underwater passage. 

"It's dark in there," she said hesitantly. "And the tunnel looks narrow . . . but I do want to find out what's going on." With powerful strokes of her tail she swam in.

Now, the sea pony was used to fighting off strong currents, but this passage tested her to the limit. The water pushed past her in torrents and surges so that she had to frantically propel herself to one side or the other to avoid being tossed against the jagged rock walls. And the passage was _steep--_she had to leap and thrash to make any headway. It was almost like leaping up an impossibly huge underground waterfall, one inch at a time.

But after what seemed like an eternity, she saw a faint glimmer of light above her and all at once she surfaced. The little underwater tunnel ended in a dark cave and the sea pony could tell by the thin feeling of the air that this place was high, high above the ground. Glancing around, she spotted a tiny pool of water just a few feet away. After a moment's pause, she leapt out of the spring and flopped over to it. (Sea ponies _can_ leave the water for a short time, though they seldom do.)

Awkwardly propping herself up and clinging to the side of the pool with her fins as best she could, she leaned forward and peered into the small basin of water. With a gasp, she found herself confronted with a landscape of denuded trees, their branches bending in the blustery wind. 

It was a truly unique viewpoint for the sea pony and she simply watched for a while. But at last she sighed, "The earth pony is right about the trees. They look sad and spindly without their leaves. I wish they were fresh and green again." As the trees began to bud before her eyes, her eyes widened. 

"It's a magic pool!" she exclaimed. "I wish . . . I wish it weren't so windy." The wind died down. 

Now the sea pony thought about how pretty it looked when blossoms fell to the surface of the water one or two at a time ("not all at once like that soggy blanket of leaves"), with soft pastels of pink and yellow swirling around more vibrant flowers of red and blue. They tasted good, too. "I wish the flowers would start blooming . . . and that it would rain," she added, for she loved staring up as raindrops dimpled the glassy surface of a lake. She looked into the pool and was excited to see the rainclouds gathering and sending sheets of rain upon the land as flowers began to bud.

"Everything's perfect now," she smiled. "Now I can go back." Squiggling over to the spring, she began an easier journey _down_ the underground spring.

The sea pony was so delighted with the new weather that she never even made it home; instead she swam contently around the small lake with the two underwater passages, laughing happily as showers of rain dripped from the tiny green leaves unfurling on the trees and admiring the crocuses and daffodils and tulips that shyly but determinedly emerged. She was in paradise.

However, the other three ponies were in purgatory, at best.

"It's raining so much that I can't even fly," the pegasus grumbled, impatiently flicking her wings back and forth. 

"I like mud, but not _everywhere,"_ said the earthling. "I can't even get across my field without sinking up to my ankles."

"I've never felt so soggy in all my life," the unicorn said, shaking a spray of water from her mane. "Tomorrow I'm going to go find out exactly what is going on!"

She was as good as her word; the next day the sunset-pink unicorn began her trek . . . and because she'd explored everywhere else (nearby, at least), she ended up trotting in the same direction as the earth pony and pegasus had. She went by the tiny lake without spotting the sea pony, who was underwater giving some flowers to some friendly fish.

Even if the sea pony had surfaced, she might not have noticed; the unicorn's whole attention was focused on the _shhhllllup, shhhllloop_ sound that her hooves made at every step as she pulled them from the mud. "This is going to drive me crazy before I find out anything," she said, and shortly afterwards she actually began winking short distances just so she wouldn't hear the unbearable sound.

But at last she reached the rocky plain below the volcano. As it was totally devoid of dirt, the rainwater simply gurgled in small streams, pooling in natural hollows. By the time the unicorn got to the base of the mountain, she was actually standing ankle-deep in a persistant and surprisingly powerful stream. "I'd better put a stop to this or this will turn in to a flood plain," she reflected, glancing behind her. 

The unicorn gazed up at the mountain. The ledges and paths, so difficult at the best of times, would be difficult to cling to with water splashing over and obscuring them. At last she decided to wink her way up the volcano little by little, a difficult task with unfamiliar land. She began cautiously, winking only a few feet at a time, and even then she nearly fell once or twice when she misjudged the stability of a rocky shelf. The cataracts of water grew ever more powerful as she neared the top, trying to tumble her backwards, into the thin mountain air, but she clung and braced herself and dug her hooves behind any solid-looking rock as she desparately judged her next wink. Her muscles ached and her horn ached and her head ached, and at last she misstepped and found herself falling backwards into empty space . . . and she took a deep breath, concentrated, _winked . . . _

And found herself at the top of the mountain. She let out a ragged sigh of relief. Miraculously, she had judged the distance correctly instead of winking herself into solid rock or empty space, as she could easily have done. Shaken, she laid down and rested for a while.

However, her ears soon pricked up at the sound of running water; turning her head, she saw a small cave with a spring splashing through it. She entered cautiously, looking slowly from side to side until her gaze rested on the tiny round pool. She could almost taste the tang of magic in the air as she strode towards the pool.

The unicorn gazed into the water, noting the sheets of water drenching the fields and flowers. "I wish it would stop raining," she said slowly. The rain stopped. The unicorn looked thoughtfully at the basin of water; what limits did it have? "I wish it would warm up," she said, shivering with sweat. Immediately the temperature rose. The unicorn carefully tweaked the pool until the sun beat down so fiercely that even the high mountaintop seemed warm and pleasant. 

_"This_ is the way things should be," she sighed with contentment. "Now I can go home." 

So the unicorn returned home, reveling in the heat of the blazing sun and the clear blue sky overhead and occassionally resting in the shade of a lush green tree. The flowers that had started blooming after the sea pony's journey now opened fully, though the delicate crocuses and daffodils wilted in the soaring temperature. 

The unicorn loved the hot weather that made the water seem even cooler and sweeter than before and made the distant hills shimmer in heat waves, as if by magic. She lounged and napped during the hottest part of the day, then used her magic to light her way at night as she praticed her magic and leapt after fireflies. So complete was her contentment that she forgot that her friends were waiting for her. The other three ponies immediately noticed the change, however.

"It's so hot up here that I don't even want to surface any more," the blue sea pony said a few days after the weather change. "What's worse, the smaller streams and lakes are drying up!" 

"It's too hot to move," agreed the earth pony, dipping her head into the stream. "I can't even go exploring anymore; I get thirsty too fast."

"I know what you mean," the white pegasus said. "Flying is a chore in this weather, especially without any wind. It's just hot and still."

The three ponies sat silently together as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, at last offering some relief from the sweltering heat. Oddly enough, the same idea occurred to each pony at that instant. They quietly said their goodbyes and goodnights and separated . . . and as soon as they drew away enough to be out of sight from one another, the earth pony began running towards a certain lake she knew, the pegasus began flapping towards a particular mountain, and the sea pony began searching for one special underwater passage.

The pegasus reached the summit first, swifter than the others even without a wind to buoy her. "Leaves falling," she whispered to the pool. "Wild winds to carry me high. Maybe a little bit of a chill in the air." The oppressive heat began to fade and a strong wind rose. The pegasus turned to face it--

--and came face to face with the earth pony.

"What are _you_ doing here?" the pegasus asked in amazement.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" the little green pony replied. "Why didn't you fix the weather while you were here?"

"I did."

"No you didn't. The weather should be--" she drew nearer to the magic pool. "Chilly and brisk, with snowy days and cold, clear nights. Iced over ponds and--"

"What are you _doing?"_ the pegasus demanded as a flurry of snowflakes began to fall. "This is terrible weather!"

With a splash, the sea pony burst out of the nearby spring in the cave. "What's terrible?" she asked. "Oh no, not more snow!" She flopped over to the small pool.

"You see?" the pegasus told the earthling as she recovered from her surprise. (She had not expected to see the sea pony bursting out of the spring.) "She agrees with me. What we need is--"

"--raindrops dancing on the rivers and lakes, crocuses and tulips pushing open their petals as the trees begin to bud again," the sea pony told the pool as the snow turned to rain.

"WHAT??" the pegasus and earthling chorused together.

With a soft ***WHAM*** the unicorn winked in. "What indeed," she remarked. 

"What are _you_ doing here?" the earth pony said.

The unicorn replied, "I saw you and the pegasus coming up here, so I followed. And it's a good thing I did." She moved over to the silvery pool. "What we want is clear blue skies, not rain, with the sun shining so warm and bright--"

"--that we swelter and roast," the pegasus snorted. "That's not what we want at all. We want windy days--"

"No, we want rainshowers and fresh buds!"

"Snowdrifts for playing in, ice for sliding on--"

"--heat of the sun--"

"--falling leaves--"

"--lots of fresh rain--"

"--snow--"

The four ponies argued more and more loudly until they were almost screaming the merits of their favorite weather. The magic pool shimmered wildly as driving raindrops mixed with snow pelted the ground outside the cave, only to be melted by frantic, inconstant rays of sunlight that darted through the roiling clouds. The weather mimicked the crescendoing argument, until at last--

"SUN!!!"

"RAIN!!!"

"WIND!!!"

"SNOW!!!"

As their shouts mingled and combined, a tearing sound ripped from the pool and a tidal wave of magic sent them hurling against the wall. For several minutes, all was quiet.

"Are you okay?" the unicorn said at last, turning towards the green earthling.

"I'm okay. What about you, sea pony?"

The sea pony awkwardly propped herself up again. "I'm fine. What about the pegasus? She's the one with hollow bones."

"I'm fine too," the pegasus said, shaking the dirt and grit from her wings.

Not quite looking at each other, the ponies cautiously approached the pool. As they peeked over the rim, they gasped in horror. The weather was not sunny, not rainy, not windy, not snowy . . . not anything. A dirty grey mist swirled over the landscape, formless and dismal.

"What have we done?" the earth pony cried.

The unicorn bowed her head. "I, of all ponies, should have known better than to tamper with magic in this way."

"We have to change it back," the pegasus said frantically. "Sun, rain, whatever--anything but this . . . this _emptiness!"_

When no one spoke out to stop her, she said, "Sun . . . I wish for sun!"

Nothing happened.

The green earthling took a step forward. "Rain."

"Wind," the unicorn said.

"I wish for snow." The sea pony turned to the others. "It's not _working!"_

"Maybe we broke it," the earth pony said quietly, looking sick.

"You know magic, unicorn . . ." the pegasus turned towards her hopefully.

The pink pony slowly reared, then gently rested her forehooves on the rim of the tiny pool. She stared deep into the water. 

And stared. 

And stared. 

And stared.

"There's still magic there," she said at last, "but our argument has . . . confused things."

"Maybe if we all wish for the same thing," the blue sea pony suggested. The others nodded eagerly.

"We can wish for heat if you want . . . it wasn't all _that_ bad," said the pegasus.

"I know you wanted a windy day. Let's wish for that."

"I wouldn't mind the snow if someone kept a spot thawed in the river so I can visit you three," the sea pony offered.

"Why not wish for rain? It was kind of soggy, but it _did_ freshen things up."

And so another argument broke out, though this one was the polite, self-effacing argument of those who wish to make amends. At last the earth pony solved the problem.

"Can't we wish for all of them . . . at different times, though? It could be sunny and hot for a while, then rainy--"

"Or if we had the rain _before_ the great heat, the flowers would last longer!" the pegasus said, nodding eagerly.

"And then we could have the windy days before the snow falls," the sea pony said. "The snow would freeze the leaves if they were still on the trees, after all."

"Then we're all agreed," the unicorn sighed, relieved. 

"But can we make the pool understand?" the sea pony asked anxiously.

"Unicorns are magic," the pegasus repeated hopefully.

"Let me think," the unicorn frowned, thoughtfully tapping a hoof on the stone basin. "Sometimes words have magic," she said after a long time.

"Speak for us, then," the sea pony told her. "We will . . . we'll . . ."

"We'll _believe,"_ the earth pony said firmly.

"Belief is a powerful thing," the unicorn laughed softly. "Very well." The other ponies drew back respectfully as she gazed deep within the pool. A tingle of magic swept over the four ponies as the unicorn began to chant:

"The rain seeps from the sky;  
The bud bursts from the tree;  
In green the world is washed;  
Again the stream springs free.

"The clouds are rent and torn;  
The sun burns, blazes bright;  
The sky's unfaded blue  
Sinks into moonlit night.

"The wind sings through the trees;  
How clean and crisp the call!  
With every changling breeze  
The leaf begins to fall.

"The cloud spreads soft and white;  
The snowflake wheels down;  
As ice creeps o'er the pond,  
Drifts pile, hide the ground.

"Rain with gentle touch;  
Sun with flaring hue;  
Leaf, falling gold;  
Snow and ice too;

"All are agreed,  
Every heart true:  
Each in your season  
Greet us anew."

As the last words fell into solemn silence, the silvery pool shone with a brilliance so overwhelming that every pony turned her face away. When the blinding whiteness died, a gentle rain began to patter on the stone outside the cave and the ponies saw a faint but determined greenness was spreading over the land. They laughed and cried and reared with joy.

"But we won't really know if it worked until the sun shines hot again," the sea pony said thoughtfully.

"Even if it stays like this forever, it's better than that horrible--" The earthling shuddered unable to go on.

"We can wait," the unicorn agreed.

And so the four ponies made their way down the mountain and journeyed back to their home by the river. The rainclouds eventually gave way to the sun's burning gaze, which in turn began to falter when the great winds rose and blew the leaves of orange and red from the trees. Then the winter snowclouds drifted the world in white, and when the rains began to melt the snow away again, the ponies truly knew that their plan had worked. And they were happy.

The babies shifted as Twilight finished the story, stretching, waking errant limbs that had fallen asleep during the journey to a world long past.

"Thank you for the story, Twilight," shy little Baby Glory said, and the other babies chorused their agreement.

Baby Blossom leaned her front hooves against the windowsill. "I love spring," she said. "But I can't imagine it being spring _forever."_

"I don't think I'd want it to be summer forever, either," Baby Cotton Candy said slowly. 

"Fall is still my favorite, but I like seeing the flowers come up in spring too and I like drinking lemonade in summer," confessed Baby Firefly, trying another unsuccessful double-inside-out loop.

"I guess we wouldn't know how special our favorite one was if it were _always_ there," Baby Moondancer thoughtfully and Baby Surprise nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but I still don't like spring much," Baby Cotton Candy sighed. _"Especially_ not rain."

Twilight nuzzled the baby. "I know it can be hard, but be patient, little one. Look towards the future. Right now," she added, "I believe the future just _might_ hold gingerbread ponies for little babies who hurry down to the kitchen."

The babies whooped with excitement. "Gingerbread ponies?" Baby Surprise squealed, sailing around Twilight's head. 

"Unless, of course, Gingerbread and Cupcake became so hungry that they ate them all themselves--"

In a flurry of hooves, the baby ponies clattered down the hall with the baby pegasi weaving this way and that in their unsteady flight. Twilight laughed softly to herself.

Turning, she walked to the window and gazed out for a while, watching the raindrops crawling down the window, watching the crocuses nod as the droplets splashed and beaded on them. She sighed as she drew her legs beneath her. The pink unicorn was was patient above all else, but some things never changed.

It was always a long wait until summer.


End file.
